


Beyond the Silence, She Bled

by EvilPeaches



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: ALL the feels!, Abuse, Angst, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, F/M, Orc Culture, Orc and Human Relationship, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:33:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5578639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilPeaches/pseuds/EvilPeaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The War of the Ring is over, yet a young woman is still suffering from the abuse she suffered while captive of orcs. Making a new life for herself, she thought she was free. That was until an injured orc is brought to her village, one she is utterly familiar with.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Looking at her closely, he said harshly, “You will not like this. You are not meant to. Just remember that Guglotz would be worse than I.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Haunted by the Past

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own the world of the Lord of the Rings. That belongs to a wonderful man named Tolkien.
> 
>  **Authors Note:** I find orcs interesting, so I figured I would finally get off my butt and write something about them. This is not the happiest of tales, nor is it child friendly. There will be foul language, non-con, etc etc. I love orc fics with original female characters, so here it is. Also note, this is a repost of a fic that was originally posted a fanfic.net. I have actually made edits to the document, so it is actually updated from what it actually is there. 
> 
> The story follows Avareth through her time with the orcs and the period after. This is non-linear at times, so it will jump between the past and current time.

She had been but twenty years old when she had been captured. Since that time all those many years ago she had changed. Her life had changed, and yet her past remained a dirty stain on her soul.

She had a home of her own now, a small, modest one at that. It lay on a green hill beside a small outskirt town in the land of Gondor. She lived in solitude and that was how she preferred it. She had some friends in the village, but she had no desire to become too close to anyone.

Of course, there were the people who did not want to be close to her either, knowing her past. She felt no hatred towards these people, for she could not blame them, after all; who would want to associate with a girl who had been in the company of Mordor's orcs for nearly a year?

No, she could not blame them. She was ruined goods.

She made her living as a gardener, selling her fresh fruits and vegetables throughout the warm seasons. She helped out at the local healer's home occasionally, feeling it necessary to help others in need. After all, she had been shown kindness when she had been found in the orc camp. The men of Gondor could have slain her on sight for what she was, but the kind Captain had taken pity on her and her scrawny form.

Instead of destroying her pathetic, filthy self, they took her from the destroyed camp, and brought her back to Gondor, where the people had begun to rebuild the nearly destroyed city. Outside the walls, piles of orcs burned, and she had averted her eyes. The War of the Ring was nearly over apparently, and any remaining servants of Sauron had fled their posts.

She had been subjected to a thorough cleansing in the Gondorian baths. Her dark hair had been washed with clean smelling soaps, as had her skin. Her amber eyes had nearly cried at the scent, the sensation of almost being clean. Sometimes the orcs would clean themselves in rivers and lakes, but it was not often enough for her. Though she had been cleaned up and well fed within the Healing House of Gondor, not everyone gazed on her with pity. She didn’t speak for days, terrified that the Black Speech would come out of her mouth, for indeed she had learned it quite well in order to survive.

When she was able, she left the city, to the outskirts to start life somewhere where no one knew her face.

She was Avareth, daughter of none. She was the girl who had been ruined by the enemy.

 

* * *

 

"Avareth, these tomatoes are beautiful! How you farm such beautiful produce is beyond me."

Avareth nodded with a shy smile on her face. "Hard work, Gwenyth, dedication and hard work."

The older woman plopped a few coins into the young woman’s fragile hand with a wink. "Keep the extra coins my dear."

Avareth's eyes widened as she shook her head, "Gwenyth, really, I can't..."

The older woman waved her hand dismissively. "Take them sweet child; just come visit me sometime soon. You are going to turn into an old hermit soon enough if you don't leave your hiding hole in those hills of yours."

Avareth watched as Gwenyth walked away before gathering her basket together. She figured she had sold as much as possible that day in the market and could save the remains to make dinner for herself. Turning around, she began the long walk through town on the way back home. She smiled as some people waved good naturedly and lowered her eyes from those who gave her repulsed looks. She couldn't hide from her past, no matter where she went. Someone always knew about the girl who had been brought back to Gondor, her life in pieces and her soul scattered in the wind. Her body has not been much better.

A young man rushed by her, nearly knocking her over in his haste. She scowled at him behind his back and continued on her way. Avareth generally ignored many villagers and their business, but sometimes she would catch an interesting conversation by the tail end. She was stopped short when she heard some women speaking in rushed tones, hearing the last words, "...the idea of those foul beasts roaming free keeps me awake at night. I worry about Romsford when he makes his trips to the city!"

"What is going on?" Avareth asked curiously.

The two women stopped their conversation and looked at her warily. Finally, the one with the husband named Romsford replied to her inquiry. "Orcs. Hundreds of them are running around the wilderness now and using our roads."

Avareth gasped in shock. "Why is the White City not sending soldiers after them?"

The other woman in the duo curled her lip in disgust. "There has been an...understanding. Apparently, now that the War has been over for a few years orcs should be allowed to go about their lives freely. No more orc hunts without cause either. As long as they do not harm man, they will be suffered by the rest of us. Pathetic. Those huge beasts should just be put down like the animals they are!"

Avareth twitched nervously, her fingers gripping her basket with more strength. "Begging your pardon milady, but most orcs are quite small and barely stand as tall as the average man. The bigger ones you are talking about were made in Isengard."

The other woman scowled, turning her nose up. "Well isn't that right. You would know, wouldn't you, Avareth?"

The young woman flinched as if physically struck. Bowing her head in some form of embarrassment, Avareth turned from the gossiping pair in shame and continued on her walk home.

"Be careful miss; try not to run into trouble out there! There have been some scuffles with orcs out on the roads, nothing too serious, but be wary," an older man commented to her as she walked through the end of town.

At the top of the hill, Avareth could look down on the village, watch as families gathered for supper, look down and see the glow of candles in every window. She sat on a large boulder and munched on an apple as she observed her surroundings in the coming night. She could see in the far distance beyond the forest that a few fires were burning. In mid bite she decided it was most likely a traveling group settling down for the night. However, there was the nagging sensation within her that told her travelers would come to the village for shelter, not hide outside of it by a few miles.

Fighting down the feeling of unease in her breast, Avareth retreated into her small home and crawled into bed, where she stared at the ceiling for hours until she fell into a troubled sleep. It wasn’t until early dawn that a loud pounding on her door awoke her.

 

* * *

 

“Avareth! Wake up! I have need of you!”

Avareth bolted awake, her heart pounding. Ever since her imprisonment, she had become a light sleeper, uncomfortable even in her own dreams. Rolling out of her bed, she stumbled over to the door and flung it open, squinting as the morning light struck her tawny eyes.

As her eyes adjusted, Avareth could make out a familiar face of a middle aged woman before her. “Halliel, what is wrong?”

Halliel gave her an urgent look, glancing back at her horse. “There has been a fight outside the village, there a quite a few wounded. I have need of your assistance at the village healing home.”

Avareth nodded faintly, going back into her house to put on more appropriate clothes for the occasion. She met the village healer outside of her home and got up on the horse beside Halliel. Putting her arms around the older woman for support as the horse turned and galloped off, Avareth asked, “What exactly happened?”

Halliel guided the horse around the town towards the woods that Avareth had been watching the night before. “Some of our more foolish village boys found some trouble just outside of the forest. According to the boy that had been dragged back into the village by his own horse, they wanted some sport on a small band of orcs they had spotted. Needless to say, that didn’t end well.”

Avareth’s arms subconsciously tightened around Halliel; so it had been orcs that she had seen camping outside the village! “The boys purposely attacked orcs?”

Halliel nodded, guiding the horse in a different direction. “They had been drinking spirits and thought the orcs wouldn’t put up much of a fight.”

“How foolish, orcs don’t ever fight half-heartedly. They enjoy it,” Avareth responded.

As they neared the site of the clash, Avareth’s heart began to beat faster, be it from fear or anxiety she did not know. There were now some village men on their horses guarding the scene as they arrived. They nodded to Halliel as she and Avareth dismounted from the horse. A wagon lay empty by the road. Avareth took in the scene with dark eyes, noting the moving forms and the unmoving forms. Not everyone had survived this fight.

Halliel signaled to some of the men, motioning for them to start moving the injured bodies. She gestured to a young boy, mentioning that he may not survive the head wound he had clearly suffered. Avareth gagged at the sight of intestines pouring out of another boy who was clearly gone, his face a mask of horror.

“Avareth, come here.”

She walked over to Halliel and looked her in the eye. “Yes?”

Halliel gave her a serious stare. “There are two injured orcs on the far side. Any others apparently fled. I would have you look at them for me. Are you able to do this task? I…understand if you cannot.”

Halliel watched the fleeting thoughts run across the pupils of the young woman before her. Halliel knew of the girl’s past, she had heard from a healer in the White City about her situation. She did not know if Avareth would be too terrified to go near the injured orcs, or if she would simply be comfortable near them. A few years was a long time to be away from humanity.

“I will be fine,” Avareth said.

“Good, I have to get back to some of the boys; their injuries need to be worked with quickly.”

Avareth stared after the healer as she strode to a prone body of a young man, proclaiming him slain. Taking a deep breath, she turned and looked at the edge of the scene, seeing the darker, more heavily armored bodies lying there. _Orcs_.

Hesitantly, she went over to the first one, terrified that he would jerk awake and stab her out of fear and pain. Her nose wrinkled as she took in its foul smell of filth and blood. Its black hair was strewn over its back and blood had matted it. A skull wound. She glanced at its arm and noticed a festering wound filled with puss there; an older wound that hadn’t healed. The hideous beast was breathing shallowly.

Avareth ran back over to Halliel. “What are we going to do with the live orcs?”

Halliel looked up from her stitch work on an open chest wound. “We are bringing the live ones back with us obviously. The law demands it.”

Avareth did not miss the disgust in Halliel’s voice. “Alright, well I have a live one over there, badly injured. I think you won’t get much trouble out of him if you load him up quick.”

Two of the men nodded and followed her over to the body. She watched as they sneered before picking up the stinking body, hauling it over to the wagon to be transported back to the village. Avareth hoped the orc didn’t wake up before getting strapped down on the operating table; badly injured orcs were dangerous.

Avareth turned and started scanning the other orcs in her vicinity. She noted the amount of mixed bloods she saw. Some orcs had human blood in them, such small amounts that it was barely noticeable to most people, but having lived with orcs for so long Avareth could recognize the signs of a mixed orc.

The only orcs she had ever encountered with mixed blood only had about a quarter of man in them, from a half-orc ancestor. Walking amongst the bodies, she noted three dead, cleaved straight through. It was near the edge that she saw the last live orc. The body was face down, its left leg at an odd angle, but it was still breathing.

Avareth stopped, unsure of what to do. The orc was not injured badly, and it would be a risk to wake up an orc with a broken leg. Perhaps there was an injury she had not noticed yet, as the orc seemed passed out. Moving slowly, she reached out a hand to turn the body over, but screamed as it moved like a snake and rolled over, grabbing her hand in its clawed one.

Avareth gasped, staring into unnaturally grass green eyes. Horror flooded through her mind as she realized she had found the remnants of her old band, because she sure recognized the eyes looking at hers angrily.

She could never forget, they haunted her dreams at night.

“I…I…mean you no harm. Please let go of my h…hand,” she stuttered out.

Avareth saw the moment recognition entered the orc’s eyes. A sneer stole across its pained face as it said hoarsely, “ _Snaag tark, daash **slaiûrz**?”_

Avareth’s body began to shake, her mind shutting down. This was not what she wanted when she had started over. Remembering her past was one thing, but having it literally come back to her was another. “ _Ahk,”_ she replied faintly.

Halliel was calling out to her, but Avareth’s mind had drifted elsewhere.

_Her fingers shook as she desperately tried to unbuckle the armor on the monster before her. She couldn’t concentrate, not with its eyes watching her face like that. She fumbled multiple times and could feel the sighs of frustration in the chest under her hands. After finally unbuckling the outer armor, she tried her best to life it off of the creature, but it was so heavy that she almost went down to the dirt with it._

_Breathing heavily with effort and fear, she dusted off her hands on her thighs and moved back to the waiting orc. She began trying to take off the inner armor when she fumbled again and suddenly had her hand crushed in a much stronger one. A husky voice sounded close to her ear. “Stupid tark, can’t you fucking do anything right?”_

_Avareth didn’t respond, too afraid. Her hand was hurting, being crushed in the iron grip that held it. Suddenly, another clawed hand was on her chin, forcing her gaze up. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, tark!”_

_She almost cried. She wanted to, but she knew that crying spurred them on. She sucked the pain and fear in and simply looked at him, his bright eyes watching her dark ones. This orc had a cold expression on his face most of the time, she had noticed. He was something special apparently, had better armor and bossed the others around. There was a vicious intelligence in his eyes so perhaps he was some sort of leader in the pack._

_Nevertheless, he made her follow him around, more often now than before. At least when she was forced to do things for him she wasn’t being harassed or beaten by the others in the camp. She noticed other things about him over time. He had a slightly straighter back, unlike many of the other orcs, and a face with some human qualities to it. This, of course made him no less terrifying to her._

_He dropped her hand and released her chin, tearing the remaining mail off of his form violently, scowling at her. She stood there, shaking before his fierce gaze, well aware of her appearance in a filthy dress and body, littered with scrapes and cuts from sharp claws._

_Suddenly, and without warning, his hand was on her upper arm and she was being dragged off. Now her heart beat faster as she couldn’t help but think ‘please no, please don’t’ over and over in her head. A group of three orcs beside a camp fire began hooting and laughing as they watched her now struggling form get dragged off. “Oi boys, looks like good ol’ Daurlutz is going to finally show the snaag tark who is boss!”_

_The raucous laughter echoed in her ears as tears burned her retinas. He pulled her into the woods, her small fingers digging into his biceps._

_Afterwards, he stood there staring at her stricken face. “You should be so lucky, you fucking tark. At least I didn’t kill you.”_

_Then he turned and left her there, knowing she wouldn’t dare try to run, knowing that she most likely physically couldn’t run. Avareth rolled onto her side and cried silently. If only he knew that she wished she were dead._

Blinking away her emotions, Avareth returned to the present, finding the orc before her wincing from pain. He was clearly not injured badly, but now that he was rolled over she could see a slight stomach wound. Oh how she wished to simply finish him off.

Her fists clenched. She could not.

Instead, she turned to Halliel and the other men, calling them over. “The other one is alive! I need help!”

The men approached carefully, wary of the wide awake orc. Avareth jumped nervously as a low warning growl sounded in Daurlutz’s throat. Halliel arrived and glanced at the wounds before looking at his face. “You’re awake. Good. You can walk your foul rear to the wagon so I can treat your leg back in the village. I don’t want any trouble, understand me, orc?”

Halliel did not miss the glance the orc gave Avareth, whose face was completely averted from the creature. The girl was pale as a ghost and shaking. The orc sneered in her direction and replied, “Fine, healer. I will...behave.”

The word was spat from its mouth. Halliel rolled her eyes. Two men hauled the creature to its one good foot, as it leaned on one man for support due to the broken leg. Halliel watched as the men started off at a fast pace, too fast for a creature with a broken leg. A low snarl emitted from the orc as it finally had enough of the men’s shenanigans. “Get off me, fucking tarks. Make the scrawny bitch help me over. She knows what she’s doing.”

Halliel did not miss the second look the creature gave Avareth, nor the fact that it decidedly wanted her to be his crutch. Sighing, Halliel figured she knew now, figured that this was indeed one of the orcs that Avareth had been a captive of.

Avareth moved over to the trio and one of the men scowled at Daurlutz before slinging the orc’s left arm around her shoulders so that she could help him over to the wagon. She grunted with effort as his weight was transferred to her, winced as she smelled his familiar scent.

As they neared the wagon, his mouth touched her ear. “Bet you wish you killed me when you had the chance, eh tark?”

Tears pricked her eyes. Oh how she wished she had. If she had, she wouldn’t be carting him off to her village, where everyone would see in her face what she truly was, how ruined she was inside.

There was no hiding now.


	2. Liars and Their Secrets

Halliel had noticed the exhaustion in Avareth’s face, figuring the young woman needed to get home and away from the main source of her stress. It had taken a lot of work to load the young men into the healing building, and even more to haul the more critically injured orc in, barely lucid. Halliel found the orc with the broken leg to be too obnoxious, so she gave him a sleeping tonic to make him pass out for the remainder of the day, and hopefully through the night. At least Avareth had visibly relaxed once the beast had fallen asleep.

“Avareth, I would speak with you,” Halliel said.

The small woman finished cleaning the wound of one of the boys and then approached Halliel, her dark eyes tired. “What is it, milady?”

Halliel motioned for her to follow her into the adjoining room. She sat down and folded her hands in her lap, looking at Avareth seriously. “If there is anything you want to talk about-”

“I received healing in the White City,” came the sharp response.

Halliel sighed, figuring Avareth would not want to speak. “I understand that you received healing there, but not all wounds heal so fast, Avareth. You know this. You can’t keep bottling everything inside; I only want what’s best for you!”

A dark look fluttered through Avareth’s dark irises. “I can take care of myself,” she muttered as she tightened the bandage she always wore around her wrist.

Halliel’s eyes were drawn to the movement, and for not the first time, and probably not the last, she wondered what was hidden under the bandage. She reached out and patted Avareth’s hand gently. “Someday, you will be able to speak to me, I know this.”

Avareth shook her head, “If I spoke to you about my past, you would loathe me. There is nothing but darkness and pain. Nothing. Let us not speak of this anymore.”

Suddenly, Avareth turned and glanced at the orc with the broken leg. “He is tied down well, I hope?”

Halliel went over to the prone form and tried the ropes. “Even if he were not tied down, he would have to crawl all the way up that forsaken hill of yours to find you, with a broken leg. Be at peace, my dear, the beast is not going anywhere until that leg is splinted, which I of course, must do for him.”

Slight relief seemed to flood Avareth’s face, but as fast as it came, it was gone. “May I go home, milady?”

Halliel sighed as she realized she would get nothing out of Avareth this night. She waved her hand absently, signally the younger woman that she could leave. Avareth would be back in the morning anyway, Halliel would see how she fared.

 

* * *

 

There was pain. Someone’s fingers were digging into his side, _really_ into his side. He groaned, trying to move through the haze he was in. Except he couldn’t, he was being restrained. Then, the harsh hands moved down to his leg, which was killing by the way, and then he heard a loud _snap_ and everything went dark again. It was daylight when he came to again, feeling like horse dung.

Daurlutz glared at the rays of sun until a figure came into his restricted view and cut off the light, so that a halo of yellow surrounded them. Hands once again were on his injured leg, but these hands were different from before, they were soft and gentle. He knew those hands, and almost sighed at the touch.

He blinked his eyes multiple times --because if it was _her_ , he wanted to see her-- trying to adjust to the lighting of the room. The sun that was pouring through the windows had nearly blinded him before, but at least it filled the room with warmth. He wanted to rub his eyes into focus, but couldn’t move his hands. Growling in frustration, he stared up until sight came to him.

It was no surprise to Daurlutz that the face above him was indeed Avareth’s. She was giving him that typical look of hers, Daurlutz knew it well. When the tark wasn’t weeping (as most tark women did, it seemed) she was giving him some inscrutable expression. As an orc, he had not had much contact with humans when he was not slaying them, so it had taken him many a month to understand the female’s face during the period he had been in her company.

As far as Daurlutz was concerned, humans had no facial expressions, and for the longest time he thought they probably had no feelings. At least this was what he had gathered from his former captive, who rarely had much readable emotion on her face. It was disturbing, never knowing what someone was thinking while they looked at you. His people wore their emotions like an old shirt; constantly. If one orc didn’t like you, you fucking knew it. If another orc liked your company more than another orc’s company, they sure didn’t hide it away, not like these odd humans, not like the elves and their aristocratic features.

Ugh. _Golug_ ; those stuck up ancients.

Avareth had often sat at the edge of a campfire, looking blank. It disturbed the band of orcs mostly, loud creatures that they were. This odd behavior had made her a target for the longest of time, from what he had gathered from her condition when he finally decided to make use of her.

_…He had been bent over a crude map, arguing with Agongoth and Thagulb over the best route through the hills by the Riddermark, not desiring to go anywhere near the main keep. Agongoth wanted to go straight through to find more man flesh and horse flesh, Thagulb wanted to do a burn and run with no confrontation._

_The rain was bad that night, so they had congregated into Captain Razsat’s makeshift tent so that their only map of the lands outside Mordor wouldn’t be destroyed. “We go there! Bash down gates, kill the horse people! We have better rations that way. Then we continue on to Isengard,” Agongoth had proclaimed._

_Daurlutz had given him a death glare before snarling sarcastically, “You shitting sod, we could lose half the company for that. We will avoid it.”_

_Agongoth bared his fangs, “Fuck you. Just because you don’t give two shits about man flesh doesn’t mean we all have to suffer!”_

_“Silence you maggot! Daurlutz has better brains than you, we avoid the horse men,” Captain Razsat growled._

_A few more snarls of malcontent broke out, and it took a few moments for the angered orcs to realize a new scent had entered the large tent. The group turned to face the entrance flap of the tent, realizing the scent wasn’t orc, but human. Standing there, soaked through to the bone, stood the most weak looking creature, shaking like a leaf, holding what looked like a large section of thigh meat. “Guglotz t…told me to bring this t…to Doorlits…” the pathetic creature stammered out._

_“Daurlutz,” he corrected, sneering nastily._

_“S…sorry.”_

_“By the Great Eye, where did you find this thing, Daurlutz?” Razsat muttered, holding in his chuckle._

_Daurlutz looked closer, trying to place the face. Female, small, with hair so dark it was almost black with the rain water soaking it. Her clothes were molded to her form from the water outside and his light eyes lingered momentarily on the small dots that indicated her nipples were hard from being cold. Or perhaps fear, because she reeked of it. “Found it in that secluded village outside of Minas Tirith.”_

_Agongoth had a vaguely affronted look upon his scarred face, his blazing yellow eyes finding Daurlutz. “That was weeks ago. You haven’t eaten it yet? At least used it for some sport?”_

_Daurlutz rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time for sport, you dumb cocksucker. I haven’t seen the tark since I first dragged her to our camp.”_

_He walked around the gathering and went over to the female, snatching the meat bone out of her small hands. She pointedly kept her head down, staring at her feet. It was as if she was trying to be the smallest target for harassment, yet her actions in orc culture made her a bigger one. Daurlutz’s sharp eyes noted the nicks and cuts on her arms, nothing too deep, and a large bruise on her face, clear signs of another orc taking some anger out on her and her pathetical form._

_He felt no sympathy for her. She could at least try to be like a tark warrior and look her enemy in the eye. Taking a large bite out of the meat, which tasted like stale deer, he told her to leave in the Black Speech, which got no reaction from her. Frustrated, he slammed his clawed hand open palmed into her sternum, pushing her right out of the tent._

_A few dark chuckles met this action and he grinned; she should be glad, at least he hadn’t the time to chew on her yet. The rain continued to pour, the sound bouncing off of the tent. Outside of the tent, a young girl stood staring at the flap she had just been tossed out of. She had been told that a certain orc owned her, as he was the one who had captured her, so all dibs went to him. For weeks she had never seen hide nor hair of the mysterious orc. She had wondered if the monster had forgotten about her, or that it didn’t care and would announce that she was fair game._

_She was tired of waiting for her end. After all, she was the only one left to entertain them now._

“What are you looking at, _snaga_?” He said, glaring up at her emotionless face.

“Your stupid carcass,” was the surprisingly cold response.

He raised a brow at her sharp response. “Ouch. Found a new backbone, eh? Thought I broke it ages ago. My restraints must be making you bold.”

Daurlutz watched as her delicate fingers came to rest at the bandage around his middle, covering his side wound. She pulled it off and began to wrap a new bandage around his body, coming so close that her familiar scent filled his nose. She ran her hands soothingly across his stomach, and his ab muscles jumped at her touch.

Suddenly, she jerked her wrists and he cried out in pain as she quickly tightened the bandage unbearably. “Aye, you almost did,” she whispered in his ear, “Almost, but not quite.”

Daurlutz gritted his sharp teeth, glaring at her. “That. Fucking. Hurt.”

Her dark eyes watched his face, and to his surprise, a bright small crossed her lips as she laughed, causing his heart to jump oddly. “Good, I hope it still does,” she chuckled.

“Is this beast giving you any trouble, Miss Avareth?”

Avareth looked up from Daurlutz and nearly blanched; it was Halsforn, the only eligible man in the village who didn’t think she was twice cursed. Why, oh why did he have to come visit the healing house when the very orc who had tormented her was there with her?

She glanced back down at Daurlutz, trying to convey a look that said ‘say anything and I tighten the bandage again.’ His emerald eyes told her he had no idea what she was saying. Typical. Avareth tried to brighten up for Halsforn, as he was a _very_ attractive man.

“No not at all, I was just changing the bandages on it so that Halliel wouldn’t have to be bothered with the orc,” she said.

The young man’s blue eyes sparkled and he smiled at Avareth. “You are such an angel, sweet Avareth; I don’t know what Halliel would do without you.”

There was an undignified snort from the healing bed and Avareth flushed. Halsforn, however, did not find the orc’s antics so amusing, and he turned and glared at Daurlutz, saying, “You aren’t worthy to look upon her face, you miserable beast.”

“Choke on your tongue,” Daurlutz sneered in the Black Speech.

Halsforn looked pissed, and Avareth looked rather blank again. “What did it say?” Halsforn asked.

Avareth looked down at Daurlutz briefly, before turning and walking away to another table. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

Daurlutz rolled his eyes. _Liar._

He turned his head as the pair walked away, towards the door. Daurlutz watched as the stupid male tark put his hand on Avareth’s back, watched as Avareth looked up at the man and smiled. Sickening. If he weren’t tied up, if he had his bow, the damn human would be dead already.

The older woman blocked his view as she stepped in front of his face. “How are we doing,” she asked with no real feeling.

He looked up at her face and curled his lip most unattractively, trying to look around her again to watch the couple. Halliel noticed his actions, and her eyes became calculating. “She seems really happy with him, don’t you think? I’ve heard he fancies her.”

It was quite fascinating to watch the pupils shrink until almost all green surrounded them, as Halliel knew how bodies reacted to feelings. If a man was attracted to a woman, his pupils would dilate while talking to her, or simply looking at her. If someone was lying, they would tend to look up to left, trying to construct something in their head. If someone was angry, their pupils would shrink.

Clearly, this orc was royally pissed off.

Why? Halliel was prepared to find out. If only she could get Avareth to speak to her about her past with the orcs, she mused. The girl would never fully heal inside until she spoke about it, and never was a long time to live in misery.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos welcome!
> 
>  
> 
> **Golug** = elf, elves  
>  **Snaga** = slave (uruk-hai’s call smaller orcs snaga also)


	3. Black Ink Burns

The sun was blazing down on Avareth’s back in an almost uncomfortable manner, but she kept on peeling potato after potato, sitting on her favorite rock. Halsforn was helping her as a favor –for what she hadn’t the foggiest—but it was a nice gesture all the same. The town hall was having a small festival and Avareth had offered herself up to peel and prepare the potatoes for the occasion. Having Halsforn beside her was simply a plus. It was nice to have male company, something that Avareth was not oft accustomed to.

For some time, she had feared being around men. She had shied away like a broken horse. The Healers in Gondor had tried to help her with the fear, had tried to make her understand that man and orc were not one and the same…but it was a difficult fear to break. Men had needs and desires, just like orcs, only men seemed to control their impulses better. When Avareth met Halsforn…well…he was something else. His sky blue eyes spoke of a warm kindness that soothed her soul and caressed her deep mental scars.

“Halliel’s been asking about you.”

“Has she? I haven’t noticed,” Avareth replied airily.

Halsforn cocked an eyebrow at her. “Don’t give me that. You haven’t been helping her for the past three days. She’s beginning to wonder if you have become sick of her company.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Doing what? Gathering flowers?”

Avareth snorted. “Doing whatever I feel like doing.”

The conversation ended and the only sound between them was the constant potato peeling scratch. Not wishing to seem awkward, Avareth offered up a sentence about herself before she could stop it. The urge to listen to his gentle, warm voice was too strong of a pull to resist. “My father raised and bred horses, you know. The village people used to joke that he was the bastard son of a Rohan lord, hiding in Gondor.”

Halsforn’s blue eyes widened, as he knew Avareth wasn’t one to speak of herself. “Really? Was it true?”

Avareth laughed. “Do I look like a Rohan woman to you? Nay, the rumors were not true, but we did have wonderful horses on our farm. My father, he taught me how to ride. He was going to give the farm to me, so I could continue on after him. Of course, not everything goes as planned…”

She trailed off, looking down at the bustling village life. She could feel Halsforn practically shaking with curiosity beside her; he wanted to know what everyone wanted to know, _how did it happen_ or _why was it you?_ If someone could answer that last question, Avareth would gladly welcome the answer.

“We didn’t even know there was a war going on, not at that point anyway. It was a total shock when a large company of orcs descended upon us without warning. We had no clue. They took everything they could from the village, food, water, slaves, mainly women of course. They killed the children, the men.”

“Avareth,” Halsforn whispered, seeing the danger.

“My father told me to take Lightening, the fastest horse in our stable, and to ride for Minas Tirith,” suddenly Avareth gasped, shaking with emotion, “Oh, in the name of all that is holy! _He_ shot my horse. He shot my horse right from underneath me. I…I can’t.”

Then, as if freeing her from the darkness of her mind, a warm had descended upon her arm. “Avareth. It is alright, you needn’t tell me.”

Avareth felt herself deflate. “I’m sorry. I haven’t spoken about that in years. It just takes the life out of me. That farm was everything to me. Lightening was my horse. He died instantly. The arrow went straight through his skull.”

She bit her lip and gathered her resolve. Avareth began peeling her potatoes once more, Halsforn staring off into the distance vacantly. “I did not know you had a love of horses, Avareth.”

She shrugged, idly tossing another cleaned potato into a bucket. “Not many do.”

Suddenly, Halsforn turned and grabbed her by the shoulder. “Halliel has injured horses in the stable beside the healing house. Have you never considered…working with them?”

Avareth pulled a face. “To speed up my own healing process? Please, Halliel has already tried that card on me. I’m not going to work with the horses just so I magically get fixed.”

Halsforn shook his head, smiling. “How about you just try to enjoy yourself and do something you love? Can you do that? From one friend to another, I’m telling you that your soul will find comfort around a creature that gives love while asking nothing in return.”

Avareth stilled, looking at her shaking hands. She could. It wouldn’t be that hard, really. All she would have to do was go to the stable and choose a horse. Train it. Learn with it. It would be like home. Tossing the last potato into the bucket, she stood and put her hands on her hips. “I will think about it. Deeply.”

Halsforn clapped her on the back, knowing she was completely sucked into the idea. “That’s the spirit. Plus, then Halliel can steal you back for some help.”

Avareth stifled a groan. “Let’s not talk about that right now. I was just beginning to feel better.”

“Go see the horses, my fair stubborn angel. You will be rejuvenated again!”

As Avareth smacked his arm, Halsforn faked an exaggerated wince of agony. “Your jokes amuse me not. I’m not an angel.”

“Oh, but you are!”

Laughter. Potatoes flying through the air.

“Halsforn! Stop this madness at once! I demand it!”

“Demand away, sweet thing….”

The soft, gentle grin shaping her mouth made his heart burn, for he knew her smiles were not easily given.

 

* * *

  
  
Avareth hesitantly knocked on the door to Halliel’s healing home. Without waiting for an answer, she opened the door and walked in, peering around the multiple patients for the woman she was seeking. Halliel was bent over one of the orcs, tied down in the back corner. Her hair was tied in a tight braid, swinging over her shoulder as she worked.

Avareth approached her, looking down at the orc. Halliel was using a sharp knife to pry open one of the old festering wounds on his arm. It had filled with puss again. Avareth scrunched her nose up in disgust. Noticing this, Halliel laughed, “You would think they would be able to clean their wounds better than this. I reckon this fellow has had this injury for weeks and kept refusing to clean it.”

Avareth shrugged. “They consider it weak to fuss about minor wounds too much.”

Halliel began to clean the wound once more, the orc shifting in his drugged sleep. “You call this a minor wound? He could lose his arm for this foolishness!”

“Nay, you wouldn’t let him; you’re too good for that.”

Sitting back from her work, Halliel looked at Avareth questioningly. “So. What have you been up to miss? I could have used your help here you know.”

Avareth shrugged dismissively. “Just preparing for the festival tonight with the potatoes and such. Actually, I swung by today to ask if I could see your horses. Do you mind?”

Avareth saw the surprise in Halliel’s eyes but refused to offer up anything else. “Why yes, of course you can. That’s great. Really, Avareth,” Halliel said.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” she responded, moving past a few of the beds towards the exit. Suddenly, there was a loud crash, startling Avareth.

She turned around, seeing that it came from the room that the other orc was kept. Sighing in resignation, Avareth changed directions and went over to the other room, preparing for the worst. However, she almost laughed at the sight that greeted her. Daurlutz was sprawled on the floor, his splinted leg having clearly given out beneath him. “I don’t believe walking is what the doctor ordered,” Avareth stated.

Grunting, the orc rolled over onto his back and looked up at her from his place on the floor. “Help me up,” he growled.

Avareth bent down and held out a hand to him, using all her strength to help get him on his feet so he could hobble back onto his cot. Grunting with effort, he hoisted himself up into a sitting position on the cot and glared at her. “It’s about damn time you got here. Where have you been? I’ve been stuck with that devil woman for nearly three blasted days!”

Avareth leaned her hip on the bed and gave Daurlutz a blank look. “Halliel is a very nice lady. You are lucky she splinted your leg at all. I damn well know you don’t deserve it.”

Daurlutz’s bright eyes flickered over her outfit curiously. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her in trousers and a simple shirt before, but intelligent as he was, he wanted to know the reason why, so she enlightened him. “I’m going to work with some horses today. You know, because I’m from a horse farm.”

His eyes narrowed as he nodded. “Can I come watch? I’m sick of being in here.”

“No,” was Avareth’s flat answer.

“I’m getting bored,” he stated.

Avareth’s upper lip nearly twitched at the whine that began to appear in Daurlutz’s voice, but she refrained. Keeping her face emotionless, she said in a monotone voice, “That’s not my problem anymore.”

He was clearly displeased, but it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her job to be at his beck and call anymore. She turned her back on him and went out the back door to the adjacent stables. She was surprised by the many different types of horses there; some simply seemed to be skittish or bad tempered. Others had small injuries on their legs, possibly retired war horses.

She took a skittish horse into the gated yard, having some difficulty guiding the horse by foot. The horse, Jewl, refused to be saddled and only barely took a lead. “Poor girl, you aren’t used to kind people are you?” Avareth whispered as she cautiously groomed the horse.

She knew this sort of fear. It was like watching herself in the Gondor House of Healing.

Perhaps giving the horse time and love would help her along, and Avareth could definitely help with that. Jewl would often jump at the feel of the brush, sometimes she would trot away if Avareth came too close to her face, but nothing too wild. Avareth brought some feed out and tried to engage the horse more, giving her small treats, enticing her to come to Avareth and nudge Avareth with her face for more food.

Everything seemed to be going well when the horse suddenly reared and bolted towards the other end of the yard. Whirling around to see what the problem was, Avareth nearly jumped in shock as well when she saw Daurlutz leaning against the fence, his head resting on his crossed arms on top of the wood. Gaining her wits back, Avareth furiously yelled, “What are you _doing_ out here? You could have re-broken your leg.”

“Concerned?”

Avareth scowled, storming after the horse. “No. I was actually making progress with Jewl and you just had to come out here and ruin it!”

“I told you, I was getting bored and I’m not about to let that _sharkûlob_ tie me down like a hog. What’s a Jewl?”

Finally getting her hands on the horse, Avareth tried to pull Jewl back towards the other end, near the orc. It would be great progress indeed if she could get Jewl to calm in the presence of a monster. “It’s the name of the horse.”

The orc cocked his head to the side in confusion. “You name your horses? Why? They are just animals.”

Furious for reasons known only to her, Avareth dropped the lead and walked over to Daurlutz. “Why? _Why?_ Because they deserve to have names! They are our friends, not just animals. You wouldn’t understand that, would you? ”

Ridiculously, she felt like crying. An old scar inside was being pulled open by his words and it _hurt_.

He snorted, glancing down at her bandaged wrist. “This sounds like a personal problem. Are you sure you are talking about the horse?”

Avareth clasped a hand to her wrist out of habit, as if she could still feel the burn in her flesh.

_“I think you’ve forgotten your place, tark. What do you think?”_

_Avareth shook her head, saying nothing in the face of his anger._

_“That’s right. Nothing. You don’t think. Guglotz has told me you are too willful. I’m beginning to think he is right.”_

_He placed a clawed hand on her face and forced Avareth to look him in the eye. Daurlutz had slowly but surely been trying to teach his slave not ignore him with her eyes. Whatever not looking at someone meant in tark culture, it sure as hell was offensive in orc culture, basically screaming ‘I need a beating because I’m weak.’_

_Her pretty eyes were blank when they met his, which was confusing, because he could smell her fear. Was she afraid of him or not? These mixed signals drove him insane. “If I do nothing, Guglotz will treat you worse for it. Shall I remind you of your place and save him the effort?”_

_Something flickered in her eyes, but he didn’t know what it was. Using the back of his hand so that he would not scratch her, he stroked the impossibly soft skin on the inside of her delicate wrist. “Your punishment will be less severe if I do it. Guglotz doesn’t…have a certain inclination when it comes to you. Not like I do.”_

_The female was shaking now, and her dark eyes kept flicking down to the ground and then back up to his face, trying desperately to not offend him with her tark habit. “I’m giving you a choice,” Daurlutz growled softly, “Who do you prefer?”_

_“You,” she whispered brokenly._

_He bared his teeth in the semblance of a grin. “Good. I’d hate to see what Guglotz would do to you. Follow me.”_

_He dragged her off to a camp fire, pulling a bag up with him. He pushed her down onto the dirt beside the flame and within moments he sat close beside her. Looking at her closely, he said harshly, “You will not like this. You are not meant to. Just remember that Guglotz would be worse than I.”_

_She yelped as he grasped her hand and pulled it into his lap. He pulled out a needle like knife out of the bag and let the tip rest in the fire, the orc form of sterilization. Then he pulled out a rough bowl and dumped a few berries of dark colors into it, mashing them all together. Avareth felt dread creeping down her spine, fearing the worst, but knowing Daurlutz was better than anything Guglotz would do. It could be worse, it could be way worse, she kept telling herself._

_She watched as he took the knife from the flame and dipped the very tip into the bowl of dark berry liquid. His green eyes, reflecting the flame from the campfire, held her own briefly before searing pain burned through her entire right wrist. She couldn’t help it, she cried._

_It took what seemed like hours and she hated every second of it. He gave her no quarter, no rest. The needle tip dipped in and out of her flesh shallowly at a rapid pace, but Avareth could no longer watch it. Guglotz shuffled by at some point, his giant butcher knife swinging at his hip. He sneered at her and continued by, probably going to chop up the meat brought in that night for the camp dinner._

_Had the pain not been so great, she would have glared at his retreating back. Finally, Daurlutz released her wrist and gave it back to her. Avareth almost cried at the black words engraved in ink into her flesh, marring her features. She went to wipe the blood from it, but Daurlutz told her not to touch it. He took a water flask and dumped it over the injury, causing most of the blood to wash away. Shaking from exhaustion and pain, Avareth grasped her aching wrist and looked at the lettering. “W…what does it mean?”_

_Daurlutz dumped the ink mix onto the dirt and tucked the tools back into the small deer skin bag. “It means you are my tame animal. Pet.”_

_Avareth shuddered, staring at the black letters glaring up at her. Horngaz._

 

* * *

Exasperated, Avareth let out the breath she had been holding. The past was past. It wasn’t like anyone had ever seen the tattoo, let alone anyone that could read it. The shame was hers alone to bear. “Let’s just get you back inside. I don’t know how you even got out here.”

Daurlutz grinned, “I’m smart remember? It’s not that hard to slip out of a door past a crazed _sharkûlob_.”

Avareth shook her head. “Yeah, sure. As if you didn’t bang around with that dead leg right there, letting everyone know about your intentions. Let’s get you back in bed.”

He jerked away from her hand. “I won’t go back in there. You don’t know what it’s like, stuck in there. I’ve never lived in a house, I live outside. It’s like being stuck in a fucking tomb.”

Avareth squinted up at the sun. “But you dislike the daylight. Why wouldn’t you prefer it inside?”

The orc shrugged, trying to pull himself up to his full height, but struggling with his leg. “Just because I dislike the sun doesn’t mean I don’t like being outside, away from dead and dying tarks farting their last.”

Avareth nearly choked on a laugh. “I get it. What is it you want me to do about it? Halliel won’t let you stay out here.”

The orc was silent, thinking, his calculating eyes betraying his thoughts. “Can we go look for a stick or something? I need one to walk better. My legs are going to lose their muscle if sharkûlob makes me lie there like a limp dick for the rest of my days.”

Avareth stilled. Strong walking sticks would be in the woods. Dare she take Daurlutz into the woods alone? He could simply slay her and make his escape with the walking stick. Not that him going away was a bad thing, but her getting slain wasn’t desirable.

Daurlutz must have smelled her fear, because his nostrils flared, his pupils naturally widening with excitement. Avareth wasn’t concerned, knowing it was a natural, subconscious effect her fear had on his body. No, he wasn’t about to attack her, he actually probably had no idea he was doing it. “If I had wanted to kill you, I would have done you in ages ago,” he said in his husky voice.

Avareth strengthened her resolve. “I will take you into the woods, not deep in them mind you, but right outside of them. You are going to behave or I’m going to snap your leg.”

He grinned.

Avareth knew he needed a walking stick to recover just as much as he did. After all, the fast she could get him to recover, the faster he could get out of town and out of her life. There was still a few hours left in the day, a few more hours before she had to show her face at the festival town dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos welcome!!
> 
> **sharkûlob:** old woman


	4. The End of All Things

Halliel frowned at the room before her, scanning each table top and each corner. This was an unforeseen development. Unwanted as well. One of her apprentices came over to her and asked, “Milady, what is wrong?”

She gestured to the room. “What do you see?”

The apprentice looked lost for a moment, gaping stupidly. “A cot?”

Still frowning, Halliel said exasperatedly, “I’m missing a patient.”

The young girl, probably the tender age of seventeen summers, still looked confused. “It looks like everyone is here, mistress. I’m not sure what you’re—”

Halliel nodded to herself, almost ignoring the apprentice. “It’s the orc, that’s what it is,” she muttered to herself.

“Orc? Mistress, the orc is right there, tied down still. I don’t think—.”

Halliel waved the girl off. “We have two orcs you silly girl, and one of them is gone! It’s bad enough that I can’t keep track of all my patients, but it’s worse that I have an orc running around our village doing who knows what!”

The girl looked slightly ill and fell silent. Halliel told her to hold the fort while she went looking outside; hopefully the troublesome orc couldn’t get far with that leg of his. It suddenly occurred to Halliel that Avareth had been outside with the horses, and then panic settled in her heart. “Please let nothing have happened to her…” she said urgently, rushing out the back door into the yard.

Blinking against the sun, she looked around the fenced yard, empty except for Jewl chewing on some grass happily. Looking around in dismay, Halliel figured the worst had already happened, and on her watch. “If anything happens to that girl, I’ll never forgive myself,” she muttered to herself, roughly patting the skittish horse on the flank, scanning her surroundings.

When Halliel had met Avareth, the girl had been a shadow, a ghost. Looking into her eyes was like looking into a broken shell, only the shell hosted a series of agonies, replaying in the dark where no one could hope to see. It had taken a long time for the girl to emerge from the shell. She had brought herbs from her garden to Halliel, saying she figured they could be of use at the healing home in the village.

Halliel never though much of the broken young woman, but her knowledge of herbs had perked her interest for healing was her trade. Soon, things changed. Avareth began to warm and Halliel saw the fragile, kind woman who lived in her. She became her friend.

Climbing over the short wooden fence, Halliel frantically looked this way and that, searching for any sign of her unwilling patient and Avareth. It was when she got farther down the dirt road that she heard Avareth’s twinkling laugh and stopped short. Laughter? Peering around the stone building, Halliel finally caught sight of the two beings she had been searching for.

A good distance away was the edge of the forest and it was there that Avareth was trying unsuccessfully to climb one of the wider trees, for reasons completely unfathomable to Halliel. Beside her, the orc sat on an old tree stump in the shade, making fun of her pathetic attempts to climb the tree. After a great struggle, Avareth was able to get a good footing and climbed up into one of the lower branches, causing a few leaves to float to the ground in her wake.

There was a loud snap and a sturdy branch landed on the ground beside the orc. He leaned over, picking it up and turned it over in his clawed hands for a few moments before looking back up into the tree after Avareth. With a high pitched yelp, Avareth dropped down to the ground, dusting herself off before going to crouch beside the orc, taking the branch from him.

Halliel frowned, unsure of this scene before her. It certainly didn’t look as if the two had some horrific past relationship. It wasn’t making any sense. She watched in apprehension as Avareth pulled out a knife and began trying to smooth out the branch. Her hands weren’t very skilled at the art, and the orc barked something harsh at Avareth, something Halliel couldn’t understand.

The young woman pulled a face, hesitating, and then to Halliel’s horror, she flipped the knife over in her hand and held the knife hilt first out to the orc. This was insanity. “Avareth! What are you _doing_?”

The girl looked as if she had nearly jumped out of her skin as Halliel announced her presence. “Halliel, I…ugh. What I mean to say is…um? _Skai,”_ Avareth finished with, cursing quietly to herself.

The orc looked unfazed, and Halliel mentally scolded herself for not realizing the orc had probably known she was there the whole time. “Orc, I don’t believe I gave you leave to hobble out of my healing home,” Halliel said coldly.

His sharp eyes betrayed his indifference to her words, but he didn’t look away. He shrugged his shoulders at her and then took the stick from Avareth, using it to hoist himself up. Then it occurred to Halliel what the two had been doing. “A walking stick,” she stated.

“Yes, what did you think it was? A mighty war device that I could use to slay the village?” The orc sneered.

“It is of no consequence. We are going back to the healing home.” Halliel turned and gave Avareth a stern look. “All of us are.”

Avareth flushed and averted her face. Halliel wasn’t pleased and she knew it. The orc began to hobble back in the direction of the healing home at a faster rate with the walking stick, which Halliel admitted would help strengthen his leg. Avareth hung back, walking slowly, moping. Halliel sighed; ah, the company she kept. A rude orc and a sullen, messed up young woman.

In the front of the healing house, Halliel held the door open for her patient and told him not to move from his cot until she returned. He gave her his aloof look again and did as he was told. Closing the door, Halliel whirled on Avareth, who had been trying to slip away. “I’ve been tolerant with you, Avareth. Now I’m beginning to lose patience.”

The girl’s dark eyes widened. Then, as if accepting her fate, she hung her head and said softly, “Can we not do this here?”

Halliel nodded.

 

* * *

 

Halliel’s home was beside the healing home so that she could easily attend emergency patients if need be. She and Avareth had settled there, the girl simply staring out the window blankly while Halliel waited. “What is it you want to know?” She said quietly.

Halliel crossed her arms. “What was that out there? You handed a _knife_ to an _orc._ ”

Avareth shrugged, trying to flee from the blame. “He’s better with knives. It only made sense that he could fix up the stick.”

“ _He’s better with knives_? He’s better with knives because he kills people with them, Avareth! I’ve seen plenty of deaths at the hands of orcs and their knives, he could have killed you!”

Dark eyes flashed angrily. “You think I don’t know that? Where do you think I was five years ago? Under a rock?”

“I know where you were five years ago, and I want to know what happened. What happened that made you able to hand a knife over to a monster that supposedly tormented you, who you supposedly hate,” Halliel cried out, breathing heavily.

Avareth turned to face away, her shoulders shaking. There was a muffled sob, heartbreaking in its soft agony. “It’s not hate.”

Halliel paled. “What do you mean, it’s _not hate_?”

Avareth whirled, her whole body tense, her arms held wide. “What could I do? You think I didn’t hate him? Oh I hated him, I hated him until I couldn’t hate anymore. Do you know the feeling? It’s this rage, that just keeps building and building until it has no where left to go. Then you just feel numb, and the numbness turns into hopelessness, then into acceptance. The only reason I am alive is because of him. Out of the thirty-two women captured with me that day _I’m the only one still breathing_. The only one I hate now is myself!”

The older woman considered these words, and on the surface she understood; anger was an exhausting emotion. It can only burn for so long until it becomes ash. Deep down, she felt the dark feeling of disgust and try as she might she could not stifle it. Halliel adored Avareth…but some opinions cannot be changed. The girl had eventually accepted her enslavement to the monsters and this Halliel could not accept quite yet.

Avareth was shaking inside, watching the emotions cross Halliel’s face. She knew it was coming, the look of disappointment, of fear, disgust. She watched as Halliel began to open her mouth, but then decided she didn’t want to hear it. In a gravelly tone, she hissed, “No, don’t judge me. Don’t you dare.”

“Avareth, I-”

“No! You weren’t there; you don’t know what it was like. You have no idea what I’ve been through,” Avareth said hoarsely.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Halliel sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Then make me understand.”

Avareth looked white as a ghost, and reached for a chair. “If I do this, you will despise me. I…I don’t want you to hate me, Halliel.”

“I don’t think I could ever hate you. No matter what you tell me, I will try to be understanding. I’m a healer of the body and mind; it was inevitable that you tell me your past in order to move on with your life,” Halliel said. “I don’t want you to leave anything out. No matter how grotesque, no matter how ashamed you are, you must tell me. The darkness in your mind will continue to fester until you let it out and accept yourself again.”

Avareth looked dismayed. “Everything? But—”

“Avareth, stop blithering and just get on with it!”

“Right,” Avareth whispered to herself, taking a deep breath. “Five years ago…”

 

* * *

  
  
“Avareth! In the name of all that is holy, hurry up with those bandages! These cuts can’t wait forever.”

“I’m coming, Father! Hold on,” came the shouted reply.

A girl of slight stature came into the barn, her black hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. In her arms she carried in a bundle of sturdy bandages for the horse that had stumbled and cut its knee. She held them out to her father, crouched low on the ground beside the horse. He took them from her and began to bandage the wound, already cleaned of dirt. “Thank you, Avareth. Go back inside the house and help your mother with luncheon.”

The girl wrinkled her nose in distaste and didn’t move. Her father looked back at her and sternly said, “Go, Avareth. The meals don’t make themselves.”

Stomping into the house stubbornly, Avareth went to her mother. “Need any help, Momma?”

Her mother smiled and gestured to a large loaf of bread, indicating it needed to be cut. Between the two of them, the preparation took about a mere twenty minutes. “Avareth, go tell your father to wash up and come inside to eat with us,” her mother asked.

Nodding, the girl went outside, stepping out into the fresh air, the clouds moving slowly above. It was a grey day with no sunshine. Avareth paused to look up at the sky and figured it would rain soon and that the horses would need to be brought in. “Father, it’s time to eat,” she called into the barn, waiting for her father to join her.

The tall man emerged from the barn with a smile. “What’s for lunch?”

“Bread, butter, apples, and some pork,” Avareth said.

Suddenly, her father’s face fell, going serious, his form unmoving. He was staring off behind her at the Drúadan Forest. “Father?”

Avareth turned to look behind her, to see what had bothered her father so. In between the trees she saw movement, dark shapes, but she couldn’t quite tell what it was. She looked back up at her father and waited for an answer, beginning to feel afraid. They waited in silence for a moment, but nothing happened. Her father shrugged nervously and smiled at her, patting Avareth on the shoulder. “It’s nothing, love. Let’s go inside.”

Avareth gave one more glance at the deep, dark forest, not feeling assured. The small valley village was surrounded by mountains and trees, and anything could be out there. Hopefully it wasn’t a pack of hungry wolves; they always caused troubles for their horses.

The rest of the day passed into nightfall, from lunch to dinner, to bedtime. Avareth had crawled into her bed, falling asleep almost instantly after a hard day of work. Some hours into the night, Avareth was awoken by her mother, frantically shaking her awake. “Wha-? What’s wrong?”

“Get up! We have to leave now!”

“Momma? It’s the middle of the night, what’s going on?”

She faintly saw her mother shaking her head, an odd red tint covering her face from the glow outside Avareth’s window. “There is no time to answer questions! We _must_ leave!”

Avareth crawled out of bed, putting on some pants underneath her long nightgown, reaching for a sweater. Her mother reached out and grabbed her by the hand frantically, so tightly that Avareth cried out in pain. “Let’s go, Avareth!”

She yanked her only daughter into the hall, where Avareth could see the village outside from the large window. It was on fire. “Why is everything on fire? Did someone drop a candle again?”

Her mother’s lips were pursed tightly, and sweat was dripping down her face. Her dark eyes radiated fear, even in the shadow of the house. She didn’t answer Avareth’s question, causing her to panic even more. They entered the kitchen, where Avareth’s father stood, pulling on his old armor from his time in the Gondorian army. Beside him on the table lay his sword, glittering.

“Baranir, no! You can’t do this, you are coming with us,” Avareth’s mother gasped in horror.

He turned and looked at the pair solemnly. “It’s my duty to protect you. Now, get outside to the horses, you must flee the village while you still can.”

Avareth flinched as her mother wailed madly and flung herself around her husband, sobbing. Outside she could hear screams and began to shake violently; what was going on? What was happening? Without warning, a burning arrow blasted through the window with a crash, into the wall, lighting it on fire. Avareth screamed, covering her face, now fully understanding that the village was under attack.

Strong hands gripped her arms and pulled her outside, but she fought against them, not wanting to leave the house, because it could only be worse outside. She was then lifted into her father’s arms and he carried her to the barn. Over his shoulder Avareth could see the village, burning to the ground. A sob escaped her lips as she saw hideous, sharply armored figures slashing through her neighbors, women being tossed to the ground and savaged.

“What are they?” Avareth whispered into her father’s shoulder.

He flung open the barn door and led her to her horse, Lightening, its golden brown coat dark in the night. Baranir settled his daughter upon the horse, leading it out of the barn in a rush. “They are orcs, Avareth. If you don’t ride now, you will be dead or worse. You must escape; you must warn the next village!”

Avareth glanced at the creatures, now making their way closer, their black armor glinting red in the burning light. They moved quickly through the houses, taking valuables, slaying anything in their paths. All around lay the dead and dying. Tears began to stream down her face. “I don’t want to leave you, Daddy,” she cried.

She leaned over and hugged him and he pressed his lips to her forehead murmuring, “Ride fast. Your mother will be right behind you. I love you, daughter. Live, for me.”

Baranir slapped the back end of Lightening and the horse reared, taking off with a jolt. Avareth quickly grasped the reins and twisted in her seat, watching as her father drew his sword and charged at the approaching orcs, shouting.

Avareth sobbed, desperately praying that her father would live. She leaned over her horse’s neck, holding on tightly as she urged him into a gallop. She guided him towards the path that would lead her towards Minas Tirith, no matter how long the distance would be. His hooves thundered beneath her, as her heart thundered and broke in her chest.

“ _Riders! Let none escape!”_ The voice was harsh, shouted over the sounds of people screaming and metal clashing.

Avareth ducked as an arrow whizzed past her head, yelping. Everything was happening so quickly, and she heard another whistling sound coming at her, and Lightening went down nose first into the ground. Avareth screamed as she was thrown from the saddle, flailing through the air until she hit the ground hard, the air going out of her. Aching from pain, she turned her face slowly, trying to see Lightening.

He lay there, some distance from her where he had fallen, a bolt lodged in his eye. A perfect shot. The town burned in the background, blurring as tears flooded her eyes. She could see a figure in the dark striding towards her quickly; their feet metal clad, a large crossbow in their grasp.

_This is it,_ Avareth thought vaguely, _this is how it ends._

Then everything went dark as her vision failed her, slipping into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

  
  
Pain, everywhere. In her hands, her legs, even her face hurt. Avareth bolted into consciousness, adrenaline skyrocketing into her body once more. Breathing heavily, ready for flight, she opened her eyes and found daylight. “Lie still, it’s better not to draw attention to yourself,” came a sharp whisper.

Avareth tried to roll over, but it was difficult, her hands and legs tied. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she rolled and came face to face with another girl from her village. “Oriel? Is that you?”

The girl nodded, her dark blue eyes almost mad with fear. “Those beasts took a few of us from the town,” she said in hushed tones, “they…they skinned the men. Then…then they ate them.”

Avareth’s blood ran cold at Oriel’s words. Her father’s face flashed through her mind and she tried to push it away, tried to not think about it. Her heart felt like it was breaking in two. “What about everyone else?”

Oriel shook her head. “They killed the entire village, and…violated most of the women before they killed them. There are only a few of us here in their camp. I think...oh Avareth! I think I heard one of them call us ‘rations’!”

Avareth shuddered and felt her heart race as she heard heavy footsteps draw near. “Garr…we deserves us some entertainment! Usumyûl, gets one of the plump ones, they’s always fun,” said a growling voice.

Two orcs came into view, one with surprisingly green skin and the other with grayish color, almost humanlike. They moved along, looking at different women. The one called Usumyûl, with the sickly green skin, hauled up an older woman roughly, causing her to start thrashing and screaming. “Ugh, always wailing, these _tark_ females,” he muttered _._

The other one nodded. “Aye. We should cut their tongues out, cook ‘em. Tastes real good I hear!”

Usumyûl began to drag the crying woman away, to wherever entertainment was to be held. Without warning, the gray skinned orc turned and looked at Avareth, his unusual yellow eyes brightening. “Looks at this little one! We should takes this one too,” he paused, an orcish equivalent to a leer forming on his features, “make her do things with the older one!”

Usumyûl cackled at the suggestion, causing Avareth to blanch with horror. “Good idea! Bring it!”

Oriel gave Avareth a sympathetic look before Avareth got hauled up by her hair, screaming. She yelped as she fell back to the floor as the orc realized she was still tied up. He quickly cut her bindings and then yanked her right back up, dragging her away after Usumyûl and his chosen prey.

Avareth winced as the monsters clawed hands dug into her flesh. She took this moment to exam the beings that had captured her. Aside from odd skin colors, they had strange eyes and their noses were even different. Their ears were even sharp, like elf ears! She looked around the camp and noticed a few campfire pits being compiled by more of the creatures, others laying flat on their stomachs sleeping.

Suddenly, her orc stopped walking and Usumyûl threw his woman to the floor, calling over a few more orcs who hooted with laughter and ran over. Avareth winced as the orc holding her began to breathe more heavily, his foul breath bathing her face, nearly causing her to gag. She felt something hard poking into her back and she blushed with shame as she figured it probably wasn’t his armor.

The woman on the floor began crying even harder as one of the orcs ripped her clothing, nearly exposing her completely. Avareth averted her eyes, wishing to just disappear. The orc holding her ran its clawed hand down her front, groping at her body and Avareth struggled, trying to get out of his reach, causing him to pull away from her and slap her across the face. His odd eyes were alight with cruel amusement and he drew back to hit her again when someone else cracked him a good one on the back of his head.

The orc grunted and let go of Avareth, turning around while rubbing his head. “Guglotz, ye ole’ cripple! What was that fer?”

There, behind Avareth’s harasser was the largest orc in the group, large and lumpy with wild, thinning hair and a horribly bent leg. Avareth figured it looked like a messy break that never got tended to properly, causing a permanent limp. On his hip was a large butcher knife, swaying menacingly in its scabbard. All of the orcs began twittering to each other over the arrival of this new orc.

The new orc, Guglotz, wore an angry look on his face, scowling at the apparently younger orc he had just struck. “Ninkmol, you fucking idiot. Next time, don’t pick a female that isn’t allowed for play! This one isn’t for the likes of you,” he snarled.

Ninkmol looked at Guglotz sullenly, shrugging his narrow shoulders. “Who brought it in? They can come watch.”

Guglotz sneered, shifting on his misshapen leg as if it pained him. “I’m sure the lieutenant don’t have time for your silly games, horse dung.”

Ninkmol seemed to pale underneath his grey skin. “The lieutenant brought this one in? How was I ‘spos to know?”

Guglotz grabbed Avareth roughly and started to drag her away from the gathering. “You weren’t, fool. Next time don’t touch what isn’t yers. This one is in for ration duty with me. Do what you want with the other one.”

Avareth gulped, not sure if ration duty meant she was going to be eaten or if she was going to be preparing meals. A horrible scream rang out in the air as the group of orcs fell on the woman Avareth and Guglotz had left behind. She closed her eyes tightly and stumbled, nearly taking the orc down with her. “Watch it, you clumsy female. You fuck up my leg, I fuck up yours, got it?”

She nodded, petrified; she didn’t doubt his words. “Um, what is ration duty…sir?”

The old orc scoffed. “Don’t be calling me sir; I ain’t your old man, _tark_. It’s Guglotz to you, cuz I ain’t your master. You’ll be helping me in skinning the game brought in, cleaning out the innards and shit. Then I ration out who gets what, cuz you can’t feed a company this big without problems.”

He threw her down on the grass in front of a pile of dead animal corpses, including horses, which nearly made her start crying again. “My bum leg been bothering me, so Daurlutz figured you could help me with the distribution of the meat to the lads.”

Avareth glanced at his leg. “Why are you even here if you can’t fight?”

The old orc began cutting open a deer as he responded. “The Captain here is my kin; he didn’t want to leave me in the mountains to die of boredom, not with all this war shit going on. He brought me on as a cook, and I’ve proved my worth, don’t mistake that.”

War? Avareth wasn’t aware that there was any war going on! She hadn’t even seen an orc until a few hours earlier. “Y…you have kin?”

The orc stopped his work and gave her a flabbergasted look. “Yes, you _globlob_! What do you think we do, pop up outta the ground like daisies, like them damned elf folk do?”

Avareth didn’t have the guts to tell him that elves didn’t pop up out of the ground like daisies either. She didn’t know what a globlob thing was either, but she was sure it wasn’t nice.

“Hey…Guglotz! Can I get just one—”

“The answer is no, fuck off shit weed,” growled Guglotz.

The small orc hung its head, clearly looking for food hand outs. Guglotz shook his head, watching as the orc walked back to his group a few feet away. “Those twats, what do they think I run here, a nursery? _Skai_!”

Avareth just sat there as the foul beast continued to ramble on angrily. If the situation hadn’t been so awful, Avareth would have laughed, as the old orc reminded her of any old grouch that she had known in her village. Suddenly, a piece of raw meat landed in her lap and she shrieked, trying to jerk away from it.

Guglotz sneered at her again. “Get to work, _tark_. If you don’t make yourself useful, Daurlutz might decide he wants playtime.”

Avareth picked up the raw meat, refraining from gagging at it. “What should I do?”

“Go prepare it to be dried out. Lasts longer that way.”

Avareth stared at the meat in her hand blankly, thinking of the many other women who had been tied up by her and Oriel. “What about the other women? What will they do?”

Guglotz’s answer was a dark laugh. “What about them? Just be glad you’re here, tark. You’ll live a little longer.”

Avareth wasn’t so sure about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are welcome :)
> 
> **Globlob** = female fool


	5. Of Petty Beings and Foolish Females

The screams kept her awake all night. It was like an unending cacophony of pain and misery and Avareth could only pray that she didn't end up adding to the noise. The camp was large enough that she couldn't tell what was exactly going on, but she could think up a few awful things in her imagination. She had been unable to leave the relative safety of the slop tent, or whatever the molding tarp above her head passes for. The large, crippled orc, Guglotz, had kept her busy all day, working through the dead animal carcasses and sorting out the meat for slop or raw edibility.

Avareth had felt more than sick when he nastily mentioned that orcs prefer uncooked meat.

She winced and tried to cover her ears as another scream pierced the air, but her hands were bound behind her back. Avareth struggled against the restraints, but only succeeded in causing the orc a few feet away from her to open one oddly colored eye and glare at her. "Stop wiggling around, you foolish Tark. I don't see why yer so eager to get out of here; the boys are still having their fun it sounds like."

Avareth froze, feeling a shiver as Guglotz gave her a mockingly lecherous look. "That is…unless you want to join in with the fun, eh girl?"

She shook her head furiously and rolled over so that her back was presented to him. He only chuckled, the sound ruined by the rough quality of his voice. Avareth furiously blinked back her tears, glaring out into the night, trying to ignore the screams and harsh laughs. The molding tarp only seems to provide cover from rain and sunlight, not much else, so every single breeze that ripped through the camp caused Avareth to shiver.

She had never slept outside in her life! Momentary hatred coursed through her veins as the monstrous creatures that had captured her appear in her inner mind. How could they sleep in such conditions? Were they truly no better than animals? There were no camp fires at this time in the night as the orcs did not wish to be tracked after pillaging a village so there was absolutely no light for Avareth to see with. The moon wasn't shining bright and the stars seemed silent.

In the darkest part of her mind, Avareth hoped her family did not survive the attack, because she was quite sure being captured was much worse. It was worse because she does not know what was to become of her. Sniffling pathetically, Avareth stared out into the dark and waited for exhaustion to take her.

When dawn broke, Avareth felt the weakness in her bones from a night not spent well. The camp was bustling with action and Avareth could only watch in fascination as more and more of the creatures dragged their belongings under the cover of the woods. A clawed hand made its way into her hair and she cried out in pain as she was lifted from the ground. "Get up, tark. Pack up all this shit into those bags there. Make yerself useful before some other fuck here does."

The ropes around her wrists were torn off and Avareth found herself staring into unusual, bright amber colored eyes. Guglotz scowled at her menacingly and he gestured to the jerky and raw meat surrounding them in the slop 'tent'. "Are…are we leaving?"

" _Skai,_ yer a dumb one, aren't you? Of course we are fucking going. Gotta make some good ground while there is still shade to move around in. The boy's were too exhausted to travel far last night, lazy dipwads," Guglotz growled, gesturing wildly while limping around under the tarp.

Avareth shivered under his fiery look and when she didn't move fast enough, Guglotz pushed her roughly towards the packs. When she looked at him nervously, he hissed, "What did I tell you before? If you don't make yerself useful, things are going to get ugly around here."

Avareth curled her lips in disgust as she slowly began to pack some of the jerky meat away. It astounded her that she was expected to pack away raw meat as well, as it should have been rotten at that point. Perhaps orc stomachs were stronger than human ones. "Why do you care if things get ugly for me? I thought I was just a…a stupid tark."

The orc gave her an unfriendly look, his mottled face twisting. "I don't care what happens to you. I just get the job of making sure you don't get broken before Daurlutz gets to you, which may as well be never since that fuck hates tarks, can't stand the sight of them. Besides, I like having a _snaga_ to do half my job for me."

At the mention of her supposed master, Avareth felt dread fill her stomach and she set forth working harder, trying to impress upon Guglotz her usefulness. Working with dead animals was disgusting, but it was certainly better than being violated as those other women in her village had been. Avareth would do anything to avoid that. She felt Guglotz's heavy gaze burning into her skull as she nervously set about her work. However, he suddenly barked out harshly, "Nûlzrii! Get yer stinking hide over here! Don't act like I don't see you skulking over there!"

Avareth heard a muttered curse and she turned and watched as another orc approached Guglotz. The sullen expression on his face reminded her of a young child. This orc was leaner than the cook, with smaller bones and features. His skin was more of a greenish gray, with very pointed ears and ever changing pale eyes. His irises dominated the surface of his eyes, allowing little white to peak through. Avareth gleaned that this must be a different species of orc or at least one from a different territory than Guglotz, who was large and bulky and of darker skin.

"Wasn't skulking," the orc called Nûlzrii hissed, eyes flitting away from Guglotz as if threatened.

"I don't give a fuck what you were doing, _lat glob_. This _snaga globlob_ is slow and I need someone who can get this shit done faster."

Avareth felt pinned when Nûlzrii's pale, currently sky blue eyes finally landed on her. She could easily read the revulsion and disgust that settled onto his features. "What is it doing here? I don't want to work with a _snaga_. Go find someone else, Guglotz."

Guglotz growled menacingly and wrapped one of his large hands around the smaller orcs throat, throwing him down roughly beside Avareth. "Well, Nûlzrii, guess what? I found _you_ and you are so pathetic that I can't even tell the difference between you and this soggy tark, so get to work."

Avareth scooted away from the orc beside her, cringing as he accidently brushed against her after his tumble. He turned and looked at her again, baring his sharp teeth and snarling nastily, causing her to cry out in surprise. Guglotz planned on leaving her alone with _this?_

As the older orc began to limp in the direction of the bustling camp where more creatures of all shapes and sizes (and various states of dress) were running about, he stopped and turned, pointing a clawed finger at Nûlzrii. "No killing and breaking the tark, no matter how stupid she is."

Nûlzrii's lip began to curl as if he were about to retort, but Guglotz cut him off. "Do you want me to snap yer spine, fuckwad?"

The only response was silence, but Avareth noticed the way Nûlzrii's ears seemed to twitch in discomfort to the threatening words. When he was sure that smaller orc was successfully cowed, Guglotz chuckled darkly and finally left, intent on finding some more…intelligent company. His cousin, Razsat would do just find if he could find the scoundrel. Guglotz snorted as he imagined him still passed out in a sex and booze coma with stupid tark women cowering all around him. Aye, that sounded like Razsat all right.

Wondering at his usual slow pace through the camp, the cook glowered and snarled his way through the scampering amounts of their large band. Everyone was grumbling under the hot blaze of the sun, but life went on and staying in one place after hitting a village wasn't the best of ideas. Oh no, they didn't plan on getting caught by tark warriors, not today. Not any day if they could help it.

Oh no, the great eye had plans for them, plans that needed to be fulfilled. Aside from that, there was that old wizard fellow who had work as well…

 

* * *

 

The tension was stifling and Avareth was sure that her muscles were going to get even more knotted than they already were. The orc she had been left to work with was not the friendly sort, not in the least. Any movement she made, any sound that escaped her mouth, any of those were enough to set him off on her. Harsh shoves, whacks on the head, even use of his sharp claws. It was enough to make Avareth cower in fear of more abuse.

Despite the abuse this orc suffered at the hands of Guglotz, he certainly knew how to deal it out himself just fine, if the cuts and bruises on Avareth's skin were proof enough. "You're like a fucking wet rag, _gorgulb_ _gor, lorz skessa,_ " Nûlzrii sneered at her, clicking his teeth close to her ear.

He laughed cruelly as she jerked away from him in fear. His nostrils seemed to flare as he scented her in the air, her panic simply inspiring him to antagonize her more. "I…I d…don't understand what you are saying," Avareth stuttered, averting her face from his with her eyes shut.

Nûlzrii snorted, pushing her again towards one of the piles of meat. " _Zaug nûrl_ , better learn," he said flatly.

He watched her struggle for a few moments before showing her how to dump the meat unceremoniously into the large packs. Nûlzrii didn't seem to care much for how orderly it was, just that it got packed away and fast. Avareth followed his lead and although she wasn't doing much better, it did seem to improve her efficiency. After a time they worked in relative peace until Avareth hesitantly asked, "I…I've heard the word _globlob_ before _._ What does it mean?"

Nûlzrii stiffened and turned his head to pin her with his icy stare. His eyes were a luminescent grey now, Avareth noted vaguely. "It means you are a female idiot. A foolish female. You must really be stupid if you have heard that so many times already that it has sunk into your puny brain."

Avareth felt her old prideful fury rise up in her breast at being called an idiot woman multiple times in multiple languages, but she held her tongue, still feeling the sting of Nûlzrii's claws in her flesh. Instead, she committed the harsh word to memory, mouthing it silently. "W…what about the word _snaga?_ I've heard that multiple times. Guglotz even called you a _snaga_."

Nûlzrii snarled furiously and grabbed her, pinning her to the ground. Avareth whimpered in pain as his claws dug into the skin of her upper arms. There was a warm trickle of blood and the feel of it made her heart beat even faster. His face was close to hers and when she looked him in the eye he growled until she averted her gaze again. "Listen here, _skessa,_ I'm not here to fucking teach you. I'm here to finish this shit job. I'm sick of listening to your pathetic whimpering. Close your mouth and shut up and don't fucking look at me anymore with your innocent little tark eyes. You disgust me."

With another sneer, he lifted her up off the ground slightly before slamming her back down hard, causing the air to leave her chest. Nûlzrii rolled off of her and scanned the area, seeming satisfied with the work done. Avareth stared down into the dirt below her, gasping for air. She gritted her teeth against the fact that her whole body ached and that she had suffered more abuse at the hands of this lone orc than any other in the entire time she had been captured. Even Guglotz had not been so petty. She couldn't think of anyone she had ever met in her entire life that was as petty as this creature.

Nûlzrii shifted behind her and then picked her up roughly, jolting her shoulder joint hard. "Alright, _skessa_ , now that we understand each other better, I have some more work for you."

Avareth did not look at him again; instead she looked at his shoulder intently. At his words, she protested violently, not wanting to spend another minute with him. "But Guglotz said…"

He ignored her words and dragged her into the camp and he grimaced as the sun bathed his back. Squinting his eyes against the light, he looked around for his shared tarp. After all, why not make the stupid girl roll it up for him and his pals? Lost in his thoughts, he dragged her around and Avareth tried not to notice all the lecherous looks she was receiving by a multitude of creatures laying around. There had to be at least fifty of these orc monsters. Maybe more!

It was hard to keep up with Nûlzrii's fast pace and Avareth ended up tripping over someone's armor, nearly pulling Nûlzrii down with her. He cursed at her ferociously and yanked on her arm harder. "Oi, Nûlzrii, what the fuck is that thing you have hanging off of you? It looks stronger than you!"

"A parasite. What the fuck do you think it is you stupid twat?" Nûlzrii shouted hoarsely, glaring in the direction of the one taunting him from the darkness of the forest.

Avareth wanted to cry because this was far from the safety of Guglotz's slop tent. At least the older orc was mostly indifferent to her presence; this one seemed to enjoy tormenting her. Soon they reached a new tarp like shelter and Nûlzrii tossed Avareth towards it. "Take it down, _skessa, snaga._ Oi, Ninkmol, are you still fucking sleeping?"

Avareth recognized one of the orcs from the other day that had tried to use her as entertainment with another woman from her village. Avareth went pale with fear as she glanced at the other orc, noticing how he was still curled on his side under the shade of the tarp. He waved a claw in their general direction. " _Quiil._ Do what I want," Ninkmol muttered softly.

Avareth risked a quick peek at Nûlzrii and wasn't surprised to find him rolling his eyes. "No, you do what I want, twat."

"In what fantasy? No one does what you want, Nûlzrii," the resting orc shot back.

Nûlzrii's eyes darted in Avareth's direction so she looked away as quick as she could and hoped he hadn't seen her looking at him. She hesitantly started trying to pull down the tarp like Nûlzrii told her to, fearing his claws and teeth more than she feared pestering the lazy orc underneath the tarp. One of the strings snapped under her hand and the whole thing collapsed on Ninkmol. He shouted furiously and ripped the tarp off of his head, growling, "Nûlzrii, you fuck, that wasn't funny…"

His unusual yellow eyes landed on Avareth, who was still holding the broken string and shock crossed his features. "The hell… Nûlzrii put this thing back where you found it before we get in trouble!"

Nûlzrii cocked his head to the side and motioned for Avareth to continue rolling the material up. Avareth was surprised to find that the material was different pieces of animal skins put together. As she rolled, Nûlzrii said, "Why? We aren't doing anything, we are just making her work, I thought that was the purpose of her."

Ninkmol sighed dramatically, trying to lie back down on the tarp as Avareth rolled it, much to her frustration. "Daurlutz captured her. Guglotz cracked me a good one the other day over her. Tried to play, wasn't allowed. No fair, I like the look of her."

There was a short, sharp laugh as Nûlzrii shook his head contemptuously. "Daurlutz? That fuck doesn't even have a pure orc bloodline. He doesn't even deserve to-"

Ninkmol shushed him. " _Quiil!_ You don't want the wrong sort hearing you say that."

They continued to chatter roughly, subtly demeaning each other as they went. If they had been human males, Avareth would have said they sounded like best friends. But they weren't men, they were monsters and she wasn't sure that they had the ability to even like each other, not with their exceedingly violent personalities. Ninkmol wouldn't get off the tarp and Avareth wasn't about to let Nûlzrii have more cause to beat on her than he already did. Softly, Avareth said, "Can you please get off of the tarp so I can roll it, _globlob_?"

Ninkmol stopped talking and stared at her with a slack jaw. "Did it just call me a female fool?"

Nûlzrii kicked him off the tarp and wrestled him in the dirt away from Avareth's work, crowing with unkind laughter. Avareth let out all the air she had been holding and finished rolling the tarp, tying it together so that it could be easily carried on someone's back. A heavy hand settled on her neck and Avareth couldn't even stop the scream the erupted from her mouth.

Pain following being touched was making it a habit, you see.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Lat glob:** you filth  
>  **Gorgulb gor:** work, work harder  
>  **Lorz skessa:** stupid, ugly female troll.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos welcome! Will post more of the chapters shortly.
> 
> Also, my Black Speech is not that great...
> 
> Rough translation:  
> Snaag tark, daash slaiûrz?: gentle/weak human, still alive?


End file.
